


sweetest devotion

by LugianBeforeSwine



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Fall (Hannibal), jack crawford cannot catch a break, pure silliness, with mentions of cannibalism of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24211423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LugianBeforeSwine/pseuds/LugianBeforeSwine
Summary: Jack Crawford was tired. He was jet-lagged, he was frazzled, and the hotel where he was staying had the worst coffee he had ever tasted in his life. But Jack did have one thing going for him: he was almost certain that he had finally managed to catch the Murder Husbands unawares.Jack interrupts Will and Hannibal's date. They take the opportunity to fill him in on their marriage.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 16
Kudos: 242





	sweetest devotion

Jack Crawford was tired. He was jet-lagged, he was frazzled, and the hotel where he was staying had the worst coffee he had ever tasted in his life. But Jack did have one thing going for him: he was almost certain that he had finally managed to catch the Murder Husbands unawares.

Jack internally cursed as soon as he thought it. Calling them “murder husbands” was so ridiculous, but damn if it wasn’t catchy. And accurate, too, if he was to believe the tiny, shriveled old lady he was currently speaking with. She didn’t appear to know anything about the murder part, but the husbands part she seemed very familiar with.

“They are the sweetest,” she proclaimed in French-accented English. “They make dinner for me almost every day. I am spoiled, they are so kind. And they are so good to one another.” She sighed wistfully, and Jack tried to politely cut her off.

“Right, thanks for—”

“Devoted, that is the word. You can look into their eyes and see their love for one another.”

“Yes, that’s great—”

“Love is so beautiful, is it not?”

“I have to go!” Jack didn’t mean to shout, but dammit, this lady would not shut up, and if Jack had to hear one more word about Will and Hannibal’s deep and immense love for each other, he would probably vomit. “Thank you, ma’am.” He strode off before she could respond.

Jack couldn’t help the spring in his step as he made his way to the catacombs. He had been chasing his quarry for years, never managing to catch up to them, and now here he was, just a few minutes away from what would be his life’s greatest achievement. At this point, the renown that would surely result didn’t matter to him. The ethics, the justice of capturing two of the world’s most wanted criminals barely concerned him. This was about revenge, and comeuppance, and it was deeply personal. Jack was no longer employed by the FBI. This hunt had become his life. And things were finally starting to look up for him.

He reached the ticket counter where a bored-looking teenager appraised his slightly crazed-looking appearance before stating bluntly, “It’s closed.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean it’s closed?”

The attendant rolled his eyes and said slowly, “The Catacombs. It is closed.”

Jack ground his teeth in frustration. “And may I ask why it is closed?”

“It was rented for a private event. It will reopen at three o’clock today.”

“It was _rented_?!” Jack knew he was on the verge of bellowing, but he couldn’t believe someone could just _rent out_ the entirety of the Paris Catacombs. It was impossible. And maybe also illegal! If it wasn’t, it should have been.

The teenager shot him a withering look and returned his attention to a book on the counter next to him.

For just a moment, Jack was frozen in place. Foot traffic moved steadily a few meters behind him. No one else seemed to be interested in visiting the catacombs right now. He looked to the closed gate next to the ticket counter. It was padlocked shut, but was probably only about eight feet high. Jack did not give himself any more time to think. He launched himself at the intricately-designed barrier, grabbed onto some delicately-wrought foliage, and vaulted over the spired top, tucking and rolling as he landed.

No one seemed to have noticed. Jack was not going to give anyone the opportunity to do so. His knees aching, he sprinted as quickly as he could into the catacombs entrance, then descended the stairs slowly as he caught his breath.

The tunnels were a maze, and without a map or a guide, Jack didn’t know which way led where. After wandering for nearly half an hour, Jack came to an abrupt stop when he heard what sounded like a man’s laughter coming from one of the connecting corridors. He slid along the wall of bones, keeping a sharp eye out for his prey, and as he approached the corner where two corridors met, he saw them. And blinked. Then blinked again. Then rubbed his tired, sore, bloodshot eyes, just to be sure that what his brain was telling him he was seeing was actually in front of him. To his absolute horror, it was.

In an alcove at the end of the adjoining passage, a red and white checkered blanket was spread out on the ground. Multicolored lights twinkled from where they had been strung along the walls of bones. A large wicker basket sat atop the blanket, stocked with food and a bottle of wine. And sitting across from each other with disgustingly saccharine smiles on their faces were Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham, who looked for all the world like a completely normal couple enjoying a picnic lunch.

Except that they were wanted cannibalistic serial killers, and their picnic spot of choice was the Paris Catacombs.

Jack was actually going to vomit. He could feel his stomach protesting the meager breakfast and vile coffee he had hurriedly imbibed earlier. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him. Not even when Hannibal fed Will what appeared to be a piece of strawberry cake, but was probably the flesh and blood of someone who had dared to insult Will. Not even when Will leaned over to refill Hannibal’s wine glass and Hannibal caught his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Not even when Will stroked the hair at Hannibal’s temple and whispered something that made Hannibal laugh. Not even when—

“How long are you going to watch before you greet us?”

Jack snapped out of his daze as if someone had backhanded him. It took him a moment to realize that he had at some point stepped around the corner into the corridor containing a scene of which even his nightmares could not have conceived. Will and Hannibal were both looking at him, clearly waiting for him to say something. And, oh, he was going to say something. He was going to say everything that he had thought about these two wanted criminals over the years that he had been tracking them. He was going to say it, and they were going to listen. He took a deep breath. He opened his mouth. He said, very softly and with no conviction whatsoever: “What the actual fuck.”

“It’s good to see you too, Jack,” Will said cheerily. “Sorry we couldn’t invite you to the wedding, but, you know…” He gestured to the space between himself and Jack. “We have history.”

“Today is our anniversary,” Hannibal said brightly, taking Will’s hand in his. “We have been married for three years today.” They shared an appallingly adoring smile. “It has been the happiest time of my life,” Hannibal added.

“And of mine,” Will replied, squeezing Hannibal’s hand.

Jack slid down the wall and crumpled to the ground.

Hannibal sighed, then got up and went to check Jack’s pulse. He passed his hand back and forth in front of Jack’s unseeing eyes. “He fainted,” he declared simply, returning to Will.

“That was all it took?” Will asked. “We didn’t even get to tell him about our hyphenated last names.”

“Let’s be sure to do so when he wakes up, my dear.”

Will nodded, smiling, and the two continued their picnic in peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't actually know what the entrance to the Paris Catacombs looks like. What I do know is that this fic's file name on my computer is 'jack crawford finds hanni and will having a picnic in the paris catacombs and loses absolutely all of his shit'.


End file.
